


Never Let Go

by LordeMidnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drugs, Extra-Marital Affair, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, starts out light and easy, then gets dark and twisty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordeMidnight/pseuds/LordeMidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold is the powerful landlord, shop owner, and management consultant of Storybrooke, while Belle French is the struggling, depressed waitress of Granny's Diner. The two have been have been lovers for months, but there's a catch--Mr. Gold is married. But that doesn't stop them from falling hard. </p><p>I have ten chapters planned, but the first can be read as a one-shot if you need something short!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five months, two days.

**Author's Note:**

> Smut warning!

Belle French was never the type of girl to get involved in an affair. She left that mess to the romance novels and to Ruby, who was constantly picking up married men and powerful men. Belle French had seen the type of things an affair could wreak on one’s life:

1.) Tears. When Mr. Married #3 had broken things off with Ruby in order to focus on his marriage to a lovely woman, Ruby had locked herself in their apartment with a tub of ice cream and sobs and reruns of Friends to accompany her for a week.  
2.) Gossip. When Ruby became involved with her senior physics teacher and the school board found out, Ruby had been blacklisted in Storybrooke as someone to never associate. One rumor said that Ruby had paid her teacher with sex for a better grade, which barred her from entering a community college. So Ruby ended up at the diner.  
3.) Drama. When Mr. Married #2’s wife found out about their entanglement, she had a screaming matching in the middle of main street with the woman, who threw pacifiers and diapers at her, crying over her poor baby’s future. Turns out, Mrs. Married #2 was not expecting at all. She was just trying to desperately shelf the blame of her failure of her marriage onto someone other than herself--she had been cheating too.

And then there was the issue of her father, the man who had walked in on his wife with her legs wrapped around some nameless man that turned out to be her boss. The resulting list from her father was very different than that of Ruby’s. Belle saw through her father what happened to someone who was on the other side of an affair, the collateral damage. And the result was twelve drinks a day, stumbling home from the bar and a prescription from the doctor for chronic depression.

So Belle knew what affairs did to people. She knew what it did to people on both sides, how it ruined and absolutely fucked with people’s emotional health. And yet somehow on one rainy Sunday, she ended up in the back of the notorious Mr. Gold’s shop, her legs wrapped around him in the same way that her mom’s had been wrapped around that man.

Belle’s cash from the day pressed against the side of her breast; she had stuck in into her bra due to a last-minute shift change with Ruby who had stumbled in after a long night at the bar. The shift switch had left her carless--her father usually picked her up at the end of her shift in the Game of Thorns van so that she could help him deliver flowers. Customers were much more receptive to her smile than her father’s doughy face, thus willing to even go as far as to tip her. Most of the proceeds went to her father, who was still trying to pay off the debt that his drinking habits had put them in. Luckily, his effort had paid off and they were nearly out of the red, but they were still a few thousand dollars off.

Staring across the street, Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop caught her eye. She could see the trinkets in the window, calling her name for inspection, and the money that bit into her breast encourage her as she dashed across the street. The ringing of the bell by the door signalled her entrance into the shop.

Mr. Gold, the owner of the shop, was also the richest man in town, rivalled only by Regina Mills herself, which didn’t say too much seeing as about five years ago, Mr. Gold had married her mother, Cora Gold, thus merging two of the most powerful families in Storybrooke--Regina and Gold were family. 

Their excessive wealth was trademarked by their designer clothes and sprawling estate. Mr. Gold was never seen without his Michael Kors watch, Regina without her loubitons, and Cora without her 5 carat diamond ring. The meager cash that Belle had stowed in her bra seemed insubstantial in comparison.

Mr. Gold looked up from his books and gave her a quick smile. “Ah,” he said, “Ms. French. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Belle smiled back at him and reached out to trace a necklace that was on display near the front. “Just looking…” she mused.

“Anything in particular?”

Belle made her way across the shop, necklace now dangling from her outstretched fingers. She bit her lip the closer she got to Gold; his eyes were darkening with every step she took, and how could she not notice the way he checked her out when she first walked in? When she reached the counter, the blue (fake) sapphires of the necklace clinked against the glass, echoing through the quiet shop.

“How much?” asked Belle, eyes darting down to his lips, to his black tie, before trailing down to his gold ring that glinted against the soft light.

Mr. Gold picked up the necklace and inspected it for a moment, pulling against a bead. “What’re you willing to trade for it?”

Belle smirked. They always played this game.

Reaching into her bra, Belle procured the stack of tips for the day and placed it where the necklace had just been. While Mr. Gold counted the cash, Belle rounded the corner before pulling herself up onto the counter and swinging her legs back and forth, her back to the front of the shop. 

“I don’t think this will be enough,” said Mr. Gold. He placed the money back on the counter.

Belle’s smirk grew, and she reached out a bold hand a traced the seam of his suit on the shoulder. “It’s not?” she mumbled, drawing closer to his side and pressing her breasts up against his upper arm. Mr. Gold remained still in his position, but Belle knew it was a ruse. He always broke.

Belle replaced her tracing fingers with her chin and nuzzled his shoulder, moving closer to his neck. Mr. Gold let out a moan when she reached around his body, now pulling herself flush against him. Belle moved her lips from his clothed shoulder and pressed them against his neck, making her way up to his jaw before travelling over to his ear and laving it with her tongue. “How can I pay, then?” Her hand moved to his cheek, and she tugged so that he was now looking at her with blown-wide pupils and heavy panting.

Without a word, he positioned himself in between her legs and mimicked her earlier action by kissing her neck. This time though, he let out a growl and nipped at her pulse point before sucking her skin in between his teeth and biting softly.

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” panted Belle.

Mr. Gold moved further down her neck and did the same, leaving yet another hickey. Apparently, he didn’t care.

As he worked her neck, Belle wrapped her legs around Gold’s waist and pulled him against her, feeling his hard cock through layers of clothing. It was pressed against her center, with only her panties in between them. She ground against him, revelling in the choked noise that spurred from his throat. “You like that?” whispered Belle, wiggling further and scooting closer to him.

Mr. Gold pulled away from the bruises that now littered her neck and chest and gave her a lopsided smile. “You know what I like,” he said, hands travelling up her thighs and hooking into the hem of her panties, just resting there. Belle smiled back and wound her hand around his tie.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before a ringing broke the intense silence. The signature, old-fashioned ringtone of Gold’s blackberry ruined the mood as he pulled away and reached into his pocket to answer.

“Gold.”

Belle slipped off of the counter and adjusted her skirt and shirt collar so that it at least covered one of the bruises that married her skin. Gold was listening intently to whoever was loudly barking on the other end of the line--probably his wife--so Belle sauntered over to a silver platter that hung on the wall to inspect her reflection and finger-comb her curls. It was a useless attempt, as she hadn’t showered that day, and her hair was unruly from the steam of the kitchen. She shrugged and turned to watch Gold blubber on the phone, wiping at her smeared lipstick.

“I’ll be home at five, as usual,” he said. “...No, no wait for me to sign off on the accounts.”

Belle walked back over and rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Even though he was distracted, Gold managed to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Belle was now close enough to hear Cora’s voice snap on the other end.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the shop.”

A pause on the other end. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“My answer is no.”

“Darling--” Belle’s stomach flipped at Cora’s term of endearment, “--this pawn shop business is burning a hole in our expenses.”

Gold stroked Belle’s shoulder. “We are making more than enough to support it. It’s only a couple thousand.”

“Whatever,” said Cora, “I’ll see you at five.”

Gold pressed end and threw the phone down on the counter, where it hit the necklace that slid off the counter. Belle leveled him with a playful glare and rounded the counter to pick it up off of the hardwood floors. “I had no idea that business wasn’t going well,” she said as Gold walked into the back of the shop. She followed.

“It’s not,” said Gold, walking over to where he was brewing some tea on the stove. “Cora just likes to make drama out of nothing.”

“Ah,” said Belle, checking her watch just in time to see the minute hand point to the 12 at the top. “It’s about noon now. Do you want to grab some lunch?”

Gold grimaced as he poured his tea into a chipped cup. Belle smirked at the sight of it. The first night they had gotten together, her leg had hit the cup and knocked it from the table. She was humiliated after they had finished, blushing furiously and apologizing profusely, which seemed childish compared to the act that they had just completed. But she hadn’t known Gold well at the time. Now, she knew he wouldn’t yell at her for something as inane as chipping a tiny teacup. But it still made her heart twist to see him so obviously favor the small thing.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’m meeting Regina in a half hour to go over some city plans.”

“Oh,” said Belle. “Maybe another time?”

Gold gave her a hungry smile and crossed the room to wrap his arms around her and place his hands on her ass. “I still have fifteen minutes before I have to go.” He trailed his lips from her shoulder to her jaw and nipped at her skin, causing Belle to giggle. She started to back towards the small cot that lay behind her, and Gold stumbled after her, trying to keep his lips wrapped around her skin. 

They finally reached their destination, and Belle felt his hands move lower before he hoisted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. She laughed again as he licked her ear. He twisted them in midair and collapsed against the cot, dragging her forward so that she could feel his eagerness. The bulge in his trousers had been steadily growing, and he was now rock hard.

Belle wiggled in his lap, and he gave off a strangled moan. She pulled his tie loose, but otherwise left it hanging from around his neck. She slid from his thighs, kissing down his chest until she reached his belt buckle. Carefully, she took off his belt and pulled down his zipper, freeing him from his confines. Gold groaned at the sensation off her spreading precum over his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His hands moved to her hair, and he weaved his fingers through it, breathing heavily. “Fuck, Belle,” he said, applying more pressure on the back of her head to take him further. Belle obeyed and let him control the speed and length. After a few bobs, he flexed, and Belle made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, forcing herself to relax. She knew he liked her to deep throat, so she made a fist around her left thumb and went down all the way so that the tip of her nose hit his skin for a brief moment. “I’m--” stuttered Gold, “I’m--fuck Belle--I’m about to come.”

Belle pulled herself away from his cock, but didn’t stop pumping it, letting her tongue catch the ropey semen that was now spraying her mouth and face. She made a noncommittal noise and have his tip a quick kiss.

The ding of the bell in the front of the shop went unnoticed by both of them--Gold still recovering from his orgasm, and Belle basking in her ability to make him come so quickly. Neither of them moved until they heard a voice from the front of the shop.

“Gold? Helloooo?”

Regina.

Mr. Gold’s eyes went wide, and Belle’s horrified expression mirrored his. They both straightened up, Gold tucking himself away, and Belle wiping his cum from her face with a tissue from nearby.

“I’ll be right out,” said Gold. He buckled his belt and made for the front of the shop before Belle stopped him and straightened his tie. He smiled at her, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and exited the backroom to greet Regina.

Belle stood awkwardly, looking around for a moment, unsure of what to do. She walked to the door in the back and was about to push the door open when she remembered the entirety of her tips that sat on the counter in the front. She blinked back tears; the cash had counted out to be an even hundred, and she felt empty handed without it. One hundred dollars, enough to buy her father a nice dinner. Belle felt the first tear fall down her cheek, but exited through the door all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was pretty light and easy, but there's a whole other storm coming! Up next, Gold's encounter with Regina after Belle leaves the shop.
> 
> Also, this chapter was 100% unedited, so please excuse any mistakes! Comments & kudos are greatly appreciated!


	2. Five months, two days: part II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief overview as to how to affair began, ending with Regina and Gold's encounter after the end of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely unedited, so please excuse any mistakes!

Mr. Gold had been watching Belle French for what felt like years until the day she strode into his shop with her head held high and eyes full of mischief that glinted everytime he would look over at her perusing his jewelry selection. It felt like months until she strode over to where he was standing, her hands now crossed behind her back and her top button undone that he was sure had been fastened when she walked through the door (he was human, after all, and he could never help himself from giving the lovely waitress a once-over every time that he saw her). It felt like hours until she finally opened that pretty little mouth of hers and said those nine magic syllables that broke whatever tension that had been running high between them for forever: “You look lonely today, Mr. Gold.” And then it was like time sped up to compensate for the sluggish, frozen minutes before--it had to have been seconds before he had her pushed up against the nearest table. Before long, he had her spun around and bent over the surface, thrusting in and out of her sweet heat before they finished.

And the whole time, he didn’t think of his wife once. That is, until he found himself racing towards orgasm. He had brought his hand up to wind his fingers through her hair like he would soon often do, and he caught a glimpse of the gold ring that wound around his finger. He gasped at the sight, and Belle moaned in response, so he buried his finger in her curls and hid it from sight.

He thought it would be a one time thing. Husbands broke sometimes. Sometimes they cheated. It was normal, he told himself. Happened all the time. And he wasn’t wrong--all of those things were true. Husbands did break, they did cheat, it did happen all the time. It wasn’t normal, persay, but it was frequent. The only thing that wasn’t even close to the truth was the first statement: “it would be a one time thing.” 

Before long, he found himself frequenting Granny’s diner to just catch a glimpse of Belle French and her gorgeous legs. He would watch her from afar at first, and if Ruby would start to walk over to take his order, his stomach would plummet, but then soar in excitement when Belle tapped her shoulder and told her that she would handle him. She’d walk over, take his order, and bask in his silly lines and attention. Many times, he had to stop himself from wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. By the time his meal was finished, his skin would be practically buzzing in excitement. He didn’t if his attraction to her was purely physical or if he actually enjoyed her company. Her witty remarks and easy laugh had his heart soaring, and he found it hard to place his feelings.

The answer came after a rather short meal at Granny’s. No one else was in the diner at hour; it was nearly eleven at night. She was wiping the counters off, giving him a lovely view of her cleavage as he sat at the bar. But when she looked up at him, he found himself lost in her blue eyes, sparkling like the crystals that glistened in Cora’s jewelry box, or the water from the fountain in his backyard. They swirled and swirled and swirled, and he was sucked into their depths, drowning. Belle must have noticed his heat gaze, because they ended up in the bathroom, Belle perched on the sink while Gold pounded into her, eyes locked, foreheads touching. And as he gazed into her sapphires for eyes, he knew it wasn’t physical and that he was in too deep.

After that, things became regular. Sometimes they’d hook up in his shop, sometimes behind the stacks of books in the library (one meeting resulted in a fucking hilarious reading of Hamlet, with Gold playing Laertes, and Belle playing Hamlet--they got caught right before Laertes got to kill Hamlet), sometimes at her apartment, sometimes in the alley, sometimes in his car, but never ever back at his house. They never once got caught, an anomaly to them both.

Regina was a close call after Belle sucked him off in the back room of the shop. As he entered the front, he could hear the back door quietly close, but luckily Regina didn’t notice. She was staring at him with raised eyebrows and an impatient foot that was tapping out a beat on the hardwood floors. Tap, tap, tap, tap. He glared at her heel, but forced a pained smile at the raven-haired woman.

“Regina,” he greeted, “I thought we planned to meet at your place.”

“Plans change,” said Regina, eyeing the money Belle had playfully offered that was still in a small bundle on his counter. “Careful, Gold, if it had been anyone but me and you were still in the back, that would have been stolen.”

Gold rolled his eyes at her and snatched the cash from the surface, making a mental note to return the tips to Belle.

“Anyway,” said Regina, eyes glossing over the sapphire necklace as well, “I came to actually cancel our meeting. I’ve decided to go forth on my own with the hotel management consultation.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Except it’s already done,” said Regina. She pulled her phone from her purse to casually scroll through her e-mails.

“That deal rested on my shoulders,” said Gold. “Without me, that hotel doesn’t have a chance in hell of expanding.”

“I think I can handle it,” said Regina, now pulling out a small make-up compact and inspecting her lipstick. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” growled Gold.

“Unless you really want in on the deal.”

Gold scoffed, “It’s a multi-million dollar deal, dearie. I think I’ve made myself more than clear on where I stand.”

“If you want in,” said Regina, sneering, “it’ll be on my terms.

Another scoff from Gold.

Regina cocked her head to the side, “Oh, daddy dearest,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her blood red lips, “do you really want to play it the hard way?” She took another few steps forward, meeting Gold’s glare with cold eyes. “Either you’re in on my terms or…” her eyes flitted around the shop for the moment, taking in the money, the necklace-- “...or I tell my lovely mother about the affair you’re so obviously having.”

Gold’s nostrils flared, “Whatever are you talking about, dearie?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” said Regina. “You have lipstick on your collar, you smell like perfume, and don’t think I didn’t hear the door close before you came out. Plus, I’ve seen the two of you together.” Gold opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off, “Last Friday. In your car. She was on top. Didn’t know that the suicidal waitress had it in her. Looks like you have a few more moves in your book that I didn’t get to experience. You still got it in you, though.”

“Stop,” Gold spit out between clenched teeth.

“She’s very pretty,” said Regina. “What’s her name again? Margie? Verna?”

“Belle.”

“Belle,” Regina said, his mistress’s name rolling off her tongue. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be too happy to find out that you have to decide between her and this deal. And we all know that you can’t resist a good deal.”

And with that, Regina exited the pawnshop, hips swinging, humming an ugly tune that sent chills down Gold’s spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, Gold has to decide between Belle and his power! Sound familiar to anyone?
> 
> The next chapter is a flashback from where we are now (this chapter took place five months and two days after the start of the affair, hence that chapter title); the next chapter will take place one month, one week after the start of their affair.
> 
> Please, please, please, leave kudos, comment, anything. It keeps me motivated to know that people are actually reading this ;)


	3. One month, one week.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold and Belle discuss past lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gold & Belle have only been dating for a few months, but the angst hits them hard man. Please excuse any errors, this is unrevised & unedited!

Belle knew all about Gold’s previous lovers. She could list them from memory: Milah, Mal, two one night stands, one prostitute, Tink, Cora, Regina, and her. Nine fucks. She didn’t technically count the two one night stands and the prostitute, which brought the number down to six. Six lovers. Also, he had only been seriously involved with Milah, Mal and Cora. Which brought the number down to three. Belle didn’t know if their affair had been going on long enough for her to be included in the “seriously involved” number, but it felt serious to her, and she was one-half of the equation. So she counted herself as a half. 3 and a half girlfriends.

They had “the talk” after two months of seeing each other, lying in her bed and smoking a post-coital cigarette. The orange light from the street flooded in from her window, and they were bathed in the warm glow, melded together like in a furnace. Rain trickled down the windowsill, and Belle could see silhouettes of water droplets on her naked breasts, water running down them before trailing across her sheets. She watched the smoke billow above them, dissipating into nothingness when her voice broke over what was supposed to sound like a confident sentence.

“How many have you been with?”

“Well, darling,” he had said (not dearie, but darling), “There was Milah, you remember her.”

“Your ex-wife.”

“Aye. After her, I got involved with a woman named Mal. We lasted a good year, before she decided to move to Boston to pursue her career. I wasn’t in a good place after that...thinking who would want to be in a relationship with me, I mean, two women had left me. So I started...drinking a lot, fucking random women. There were three--I can’t remember two of their names, I was always black-out drunk during those...excursions, but I remember Tink. We hooked up a few times, nothing serious. We were both in really dark places, and we kind of pulled ourselves out of our funk.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault I was depressed and nearly dead.”

At his words, Belle shot up from her position, shifting onto her knees. She turned to face him and looked down at him, her long brown hair framing her fair face. Gold reached up and tucked an errant strand behind her ear, caressing her cheek briefly before letting his hand drop. He took another drag from his cigarette and looked out the window. Belle touched his chest in an attempt to comfort him and could hear his heart thumping beneath her hand, tapping hard against his ribcage. He curled his own free hand around hers, pressing it further into his skin.

After a few minutes, Belle decided his heart had calmed down enough to continue the conversation.

“And after Tink?”

“I met--are you sure you really want to talk about this?”

“Positive,” said Belle, falling down onto her side so that she laid next to him again, now twisting her leg around his.

“I met Cora... I fell for her hard. She was still at university, and I was--”

“You were her professor.”

“Yes.”

“And you guys got married,” said Belle, disbelief lacing her voice.

“Not quite yet. After she graduated, she broke things off and we lost touch for years. And then…”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you to look at me differently for this,” he said.

“I never would.”

Gold didn’t respond for a few moments--just watched some ash spill over onto her comforter, and Belle didn’t have the heart to chastise him for it. He turned over onto his side, facing away from Belle, and she could sense the tension radiating from his back. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him close, glad to be the big spoon for once.

“I...I met this girl in a bar. She was gorgeous, the spitting image of Cora in her prime. She was witty, flirtatious, and--most importantly--interested in me. So we got a room…”

“And?”

“And...and...I liked her, but I didn’t know her name. Only a week later though, I saw her again at a charity event in Boston. Oh god, that night was a disaster. We...we hooked up again in the bathroom and then mingled in the crowd for a bit, when I saw someone I recognized. Cora. We talked, reconnected, started to go out again, and things got serious. And then I met her daughter...”

“It was Regina, wasn’t it?”

“Aye.”

“Oh my fucking God.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not. It’s just that you’re such a cliche.”

Gold leaned over her and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray before rolling back over onto his side. Wordlessly, he rose from the bed and exited the room. Belle could hear the distant sound of him peeing, the flush of the toilet, then the sound of his feet padding back to the bedroom. He walked over to his side of the bed and grabbed his pack of cigarettes to shake one out, only to find it empty. Belle handed him the rest of hers. He shot her a smile and climbed into bed with her, pulling her over so that her head rested on his chest. The rain outside had ceded, but the light still cast the water shadows in circles over their body, and Belle traced a droplet on his shoulder before it rolled away. Vaguely, she could hear the sirens of a firetruck outside, and the room was briefly cast in red and blue light.

“Are you gonna finish your story?”

“My story’s already finished. I married Cora, ended things with Regina, and met you. You are my ending.”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“You’re such a fucking cliche.”

“You already said that.”

“Only because it’s true.”

The streetlight outside went out, bathing them in complete and utter darkness.

“Am I really your ending?”

“You’re my happy ending.”

Belle felt her heart well up in her chest, threatening to burst over and spill blood over her organs and bones and muscles, drowning her. She could feel tears prick up in the back of her eyes. His words were spoken with such love, such intimacy, that she almost wanted to believe him. But the stark reality of the truth was too much to bear: his words were empty, meaningless. She couldn't be his happy ending. Mistresses to powerful men never got happy endings--according to the books, they were typically left loveless, friendless, and struggling with deep-rooted family issues. Well, she fit the bill. Maybe it wasn’t Gold who was the cliche, but she herself.

“Sometimes I think I’ll die without you,” Belle heard herself say.

Gold didn’t reply for a few moments, but he did wrap his arms tighter around her. “I think the same thing sometimes too,” he finally said, his voice no louder than a whisper.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, before Belle shifted onto her side, facing away from him. She could feel him shift behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“You never told me about your lovers darling,” he said.

Belle smiled at his term of endearment. _Darling_ , not _dearie_.

“There’s nothing much to tell.”

“Well, I know you weren’t a virgin when we first met,” he said. “You were far too brave for that to be your first.”

“You know,” said Belle, tone playful, “as I always say, ‘do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Belle trailed her hand down her chest to wrap around Gold’s hand. She could feel the lack of a ring on his left hand, and she allowed herself to pretend for a minute that she was talking to her single boyfriend, not her married one.

“Well, there was Grayson,” she said. “We dated all throughout high school.”

“Grayson Knight?”

“The one and only.”

“You mean the brute that coaches football?”

“He was my first.”

She could hear him laugh against her neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, he wasn’t bad in bed,” scolded Belle. “Maybe you could pick up a tip or two from him!”

“Oh, please,” said Gold, “I’m the master of the bedroom--no one can beat me.”

“Mmm,” murmured Belle in response. “After Gaston, I met Keith, but he was such an arse, it didn’t last longer than a few minutes.”

“The sex or the relationship?”

“Both,” giggled Belle.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“And then there was some random guy from the bar,” said Belle. “I can’t remember him too well.”

“After him?”

“You.”

Silence.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“You’ve had sex with four men?”

“Is that really such a surprise?” said Belle, “I’m only--what, 24?”

“I’m not saying it’s a small number,” said Gold. “In fact, I’m incredibly jealous of those men. Envious.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t hold a candle to your nine women in 48 years of life.”

“Greater percentage than you, darling.”

“Oh whatever,” Belle flipped back around to swat him with her hand, but he caught her wrist in mid-air. The smiles that were plastered to their faces suddenly disappeared when their eyes met, replaced by much sadder and somber expressions. Belle’s eyes dropped to his throat to avoid his piercing gaze, and Gold fell onto his back, arm thrown over his face.

Belle mimicked his actions, forgoing the dramatic arm movement. What had once been an intimate scene, now turned to distance and coldness. Even the lighting of the room shifted--the orange glow from outside disappeared when the light flickered out, leaving only the moon to illuminate them. The room was now covered in silver-blue light, casting long shadows, reminding Belle of the ominous demons that loomed over their fated relationship.

“It’ll be okay, right?” said Belle, turning her face in her pillow to look at his profile.

“You’re my happy ending, Belle,” said Gold, meeting her blue eyes with his brown ones. They stared at each other for a few minutes, before Gold pulled her in close to him and nuzzled his face in between her breasts. No matter how comforting the action might have been, Belle couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t answer his question. And that left her feeling more alone than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! I'm kind of nervous about posting this chapter haha. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Up next, Belle tries to cope with her depression in less than suitable ways, and I try to pen a scene that is taken directly from a Lana del Rey video.


	4. Three months.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold takes Belle to see his new yacht, and she feels self-conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shades of Cool - Lana del Rey.
> 
> Mentions of depression. Prescription drugs, alcohol and smut are in this chapter.

If there was one thing Belle knew, it was that about 75% of the tenants at Granny’s Diner were absolute pigs. They left leftovers not on the plate, but on the table, crumbs were littered in the creases of the booth, and small orange juice puddles splattered the cheap tops of the tables. Wiping down the tables and cleaning up after them was always a disgusting job, but it was one that Belle always endured, feeling the watchful eye of Granny on her back.

Belle knew the job wasn’t worth the long hours and abysmal tips. Hell, she was only paid a few dollars over minimum wage, and no matter how much overtime she clocked in, it never seemed to inflate her paycheck too much. She could only barely ever afford rent and meals for herself, occasionally splurging on a cute skirt or heels (but that was usually paid for by Gold, the ATM).

Belle was consistently reminded of their wage disparity on a day to day basis. When she would show up to their trysts in hand-me-down skirts from Ruby and button downs from Goodwill, he would wear an Armani suit and pull up in his expensive Cadillac, gold tooth glinting.

But the wage gap truly hit her hard and well three months into their relationship. The yacht he had “procured”, as he had so mysteriously put it, was grander than anything Belle could ever afford, even if she starved herself and lived off the streets for the rest of her career as a blue-collar waitress.

The grand, white thing loomed in the water, reflecting the harsh rays of the sun on what was arguably the nicest day Storybrooke had ever encountered. Belle had to squint against the bright water as Gold led her up the boardwalk, hand hovering over the small of her back. As she approached it, the thing seemed to grow larger and larger, casting a shadow over her slight figure, causing her to huddle into Gold’s side.

“Do you like it?” he asked, once they were inside the giant vessel. It was stripped of any and all furniture, saving for a single leather chair in one of the rooms and a fully stocked bar.

“How much was it?” muttered Belle, wandering over to the bar to make herself a drink. He hands fumbled with the bottle of wine, and it almost sloshed over the side to spill red onto the dry cleaned carpets.

“That’s no matter,” said Gold, joining her at the bar to pour himself a glass of scotch. When he finished, he raised his glass against hers and made a toast, “To us.”

“To us,” said Belle, taking a sip of the expensive wine. It burned down her throat, but she knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. Dropping her purse to the ground, Belle knelt beside it and rummaged for a bit before finding her small orange bottle, the one identical to her fathers that she had found in her medicine cabinet when she was ten.

Her hands shook even more as she uncapped it and shook out a few capsules into her sweaty palms. One, two, three, she washed down with her wine, all while Gold looked down at her with an expression of astonishment. When she finished off her glass of wine, he joined her on the floor and picked up the discarded bottle to read to label. “Prozac?” he questioned, frowning as he read the expiration date. Belle stood to pour herself another drink, ignoring his question. He continued, regardless, “Says here not to take it with alcohol.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, “I’m feeling especially stressed, and I only take it when I’m stressed so--”

“Why are you stressed, darling?” said Gold, rising from the ground to cup her cheek in his palm.

“I--I don’t know,” lied Belle, taking another swig.

Gold sighed heavily, nostrils flaring, opting to look out a nearby window at the water. “Care to elaborate?”

Belle faced the bar again and chugged the rest of the glass, basking in the dizzy aftermath. She turned to look at Gold to find him twisting and turning her bottle of pills in his hand. She snatched it from his hands and tossed it in the general direction of her bag. “I’m--I’m stressed because you can buy this… this thing no problem, when I have to struggle to make ends meet on a daily basis.”

“Belle--”

“And you know that I don’t hold your wealth against you, you worked hard for what you have, but sometimes it can be so--”

“Frustrating,” finished Gold.

“Yes, exactly,” said Belle as the room began to swim before her eyes. She had taken Prozac with alcohol before, and the results had been less than favorable (extreme dizziness and nausea, not to mention not being able to remember anything).

“I apologize,” said Gold, “I thought that this could be something that we could share.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” muttered Belle, following his gaze to stare out the window. “We share nothing.” And with that, she returned to the bar, wincing this time when she downed a shot of the vodka that was already set out and prepared. It burned down her throat, worse that the wine before, and Belle felt her limbs loosen as the alcohol began to take over her system.

Her back was turned to Gold, but she could hear him shuffling around the room before settling in the leather chair as it squeaked beneath his weight. She could feel his stare on her back, and her neck prickled as she took another shot and moved across the room--opposite from him--to stare out of the window and peer through the blinds. The docks were bustling with customers, customers eager to get out and enjoy the day, and Belle almost snorted at their blatant disregard for the terrible location of the docks that smelled like fish and sweat.

Looking down, Belle realized she was holding another glass--this time of scotch--and narrowed her eyes at it. She didn’t remember grabbing it from the bar, but then again, the alcohol (with the help of the Prozac) was ebbing away at her and taking over her system. Back out at the docks, she realized she was staring at a completely different scene and idly wondered how much time had passed since looking down at her drink for what she had thought only been a few seconds.

And then it what felt like a surreal moment, she felt completely at peace. She was standing and floating through time. Gold did that to her, the mere presence of him. It made her feel like she was standing and floating through time.

The alcohol had taken her self-control, and she turned to make her way across the room to him. SH noticed he was on his knees in front of--what was that?--an old-timey record player, and he was trying to get some vinyl to work. Belle giggled at his efforts, noticing the tiny beads of sweat that had gathered on his temple. He turned at the noise right as the record began to turn, and classical music filled the room.

“You said we didn’t share anything,” he said, head cocked and smiled crooked--characteristics that should only flame Belle’s distrust for him, but they only endeared him further.

“I did,” slurred Belle, stumbling a bit on her journey to him.

“So I ask,” he said, pulling himself to his feet with the help of the armchair, “if we could share this dance.”

Belle gave a full-fledge laugh at that and fell into his outstretched hand, knocking it away as she tried to catch her balance. “Remember when I called you...when I called you...a fucking cliche?”

“Yes,” said Gold, wrapping his arms around her waist as she tried to dance to a wild rhythm that wasn’t resonating from the record player.

“Yeah,” said Belle, “that’s still true.”

Gold pressed a hand over his heart and made a faux-insulted look, dropping his jaw and widening his eyes, but the small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth gave him away. Belle threw her head back and laughed harder, the momentum carrying her backwards. Gold’s arms were useless, as one was still over his chest, so she fell to the floor, still erupting in giggles. He called her name in concern, but Belle twisted on the floor, laughs racking her body and shaking her chest. “You’re also really fucking funny,” she said. “Did I ever tell you that?”

Gold just chuckled down at her, hands in his pockets. His eyes glowed, honest to God glowed, and Belle had never felt more loved in her life. Looking into his eyes, she saw a light that she had never seen before they had met, and something stirred in the depths of her belly at the look. He looked happy, yes, his smile told her as much, but there was something more to it. She couldn’t imagine the site he was looking at, her on the floor with her dress flared about her thighs, the flowers on her dress looking more like splotches of blood than anything else. She could feel the dress inch up her thighs, undoubtedly revealing her plain white underwear. Her brown hair covered her mouth, and when she laughed, it would float for a nanosecond in the before catching on her wet lips. She was a mess. But he was looking at her like she was nothing of the sorts, like she was some miracle to touch and bring light to his dark, dark life.

She felt something wet against her hand and realized that she had spilled her drink all over her arm and his carpet, but Gold looked like he couldn’t care less, not when some wanton goddess was spread out on the floor of his yacht. Yes, she was trashed, but the sound of her laugh made him want to make a thousand jokes and coax that beautiful noise from her a thousand times. 

And then she said the words the broke his resolve, that sent him tumbling to the ground with her in equally matched giggles.

“Fuck me,” she said.

And Gold found himself obliging. He knelt on the floor and hovered over her, a hand steadying himself so that he wouldn’t collapse on her. He caught her lips with his own and had to push away her hair so that he wouldn’t inhale it. Her cheeks were flushed pink, so Gold kissed along her cheekbones and laved her ears so that she shivered beneath him. Her panties were off in an instant and thrown across the room.

He kissed down her bodice, taking a moment to lick at the valley between her breasts. Belle was spread across the floor, curling her body in pleasure, and moaning at every lick, touch, and kiss. Soon, his head reached its destination between her legs, and he licked along her slit, causing her to thread her fingers into his hair. Using his fingers, he rubbed at her clit and slid his tongue into her, mimicking what he would later do with his cock, before switching his finger and tongue. He pushed a finger into her, and she yelped at the feeling of him inside her. His tongue laved at her clit, moving it in circles. He drank her juices like a man dying of thirst, and it was enough to drive her over the edge, peaking with a high-pitched scream.

Gold pulled away and used his handkerchief to wipe away any remains of her juices, grinning down at her like a proud puppy dog. Belle only rolled her eyes at his sudden arrogance, and yanked at his belt. She undid the buckle to free his hard length, and he was thrusting into her in one smooth stroke within seconds. Belle arched at the feeling and pressed her heels into his butt, encouraging him to buck into her. He was rough with her, unforgiving, at a fast and exuberant pace that they had never tried before. Belle could feel the carpet burning into her ass, but relished the pain. His thrusts had her scrambling for purchase, her arms constantly moving to find a grip on the carpet. Finally, she came once again, gasping for air, and Gold followed seconds later, collapsing onto her.

He nuzzled into her neck, peppering kisses down to her shoulder, but he could feel her slipping away into sleep. When her eyes closed, and he heard her breathing even out, he rolled away and stared at the ceiling, the chipped paint staring back at him. If he tilted his head, the chipped patterns looked like a smiling face, the Gods laughing down at him.

He turned away from the image to bask upon his Belle. Her eyelashes looked delicate in this light, brushing the tops of her cheeks. If he were to touch them, he was sure that they would float away into the air, matching the dust that looked like tiny planets in the golden light of the room. Belle looked almost celestial, then, as the planets orbited her, like she was their sun, their goddess. He could relate.

And when the light disappeared from the cabin to be replaced with white light from the moon, when the music died out to be overtaken by the scratching of the vinyl, did he feel safe saying the words out loud.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many reservations about adding this chapter. Personally, I really liked it, but I have no idea how you guys are going to react. There are a lot of undertones to it, and I hope that I didn't disappoint with this chapter. In case you couldn't tell, I am a little self-conscious about my writing idkk lol. With that said, I love hearing feedback, even if it's negative! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, giving kudos, and commenting.
> 
> Anyway, we got to see the extent of Belle's depression (Prozac, her drinking) and how she's not that different from her father (drinking, depression) or her mother (the affair). Gold does love her, yay, but Belle doesn't know that yet :(
> 
> Next chapter: Back to the beginning when Gold meets Belle.


	5. One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold becomes enamored with the mysterious waitress at Granny's Diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place when Gold first meets Belle.

Mr. Gold felt powerful with his cane, and when he disposed of it shortly after his leg surgery, he felt bare and naked.  Like his clothes had been stripped bare from him, and he was being prodded onstage in front of millions of people.  So when he walked down Main Street a mere day or so after completion of his physical therapy, his stare was blank (and colder than usual), trying to block out any of the inquiring glances spared in his direction.  In his peripheral, he could see Mary Margaret Blanchard, the fucking messiah of Storybrooke, despite the fact that she was fucking the married veterinarian David Nolan and had a knack for petty thefts.  Her tall and blonde roommate Emma Swan matched her pace, and damn if that woman didn’t look familiar; he could have sworn he had seen her at some point during his time in Boston searching for his outlaw son.

Normally, he would have given the two a condescending nod despite the fact that their social and economic status was nearly equal to his own.  But today, without his cane, he locked his eyes on his shop ahead and made quick work of the lock to put a barrier between him and his audience.  Once inside, he felt he could breathe again.  And then he saw the chestnut curls.  Right outside his window, was a young woman who appeared to be in her late 20s, peering through the glass with bright and piercing blue eyes.  Gold stared and stared (from his angle in which he was watching her, she’d have no idea he was practically leering at her).  After a few seconds, the girl straightened from her pose and ran across the street to Granny’s.  Gold followed her with his eyes, committing every detail of the girl to memory.  He had never seen her before.

It was obvious that was had been living here for a while though; Mary Margaret and Emma greeted her as they entered Granny’s, and Archie passed at just the right moment for his dalmation Pongo to come bounding up to her and give her a big lick on the forehead.  The woman squatted in front of the dog, scratched it behind the ears for a second, before running to catch up to Emma, who was holding the door open for her.

Gold’s hands clenched as he watched her disappear.  He had to know her, understand her, map everything about her life.  It wasn’t to own her, not like he almost had with Cora, but he wanted to talk to her and laugh with her.  The sudden overwhelming feelings that crashed over Gold had him stumbling back from the door.  For a moment, he expected his ankle to give out, but it held him up, steady and strong.

With his head held high, Gold exited the building to enter the stifling atmosphere outside.  He locked up again (couldn’t have Mary Margaret snatching up any necklaces) and had to keep himself from jogging across the street--although, he had to look pretty ridiculous speed-walking.

When to door to Granny’s whooshed open, the diner went quiet as usual.  Good.  Gold had not lost so much of his touch after all, and most of the tenants of the diner were glancing his way in fear.  Good, good, good.

Normally Gold wouldn’t be caught dead in the tiny pit-stop of a place; he much preferred to collect rent from the Bed & Breakfast instead, which at least had some semblance of propriety.  Looking around the room, he found himself incredibly uncomfortable, but decided to lock his jaw and hold his chin high, making his way to a booth in the back.  Glancing around the room, he saw no sign of the gorgeous woman.  Fiddling with his cufflinks, Gold idly wondered if it had been his imagination to conjure up a girl of such beauty.

A cleared throat pulled him from his thoughts, and  he looked up to see the very object of his extremely recent affections.  Having discarded her blue coat, she now wore a button down white shirt that had a plastic name tag with the name “ _Belle_ ” printed in bold black letter.  She had a tiny apron wrapped around her waist, and a short flower-printed skirt.  He felt his eyes wandering, and forced himself to train them on her bright and smiling face.

“Good morning, I’m Belle--” she gestured to her nametag with her pen, “--and I will be your server for today.  Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

Gold gaped at her for what felt like an eternity before finally clearing his throat, “Tea is fine.”

_Belle_ jotted down the order on her pad.  “Coming right up.  Just let me know when you’re ready to order,” and with that, she gave him another dazzling smile and turned to fetch his drink.  He could only stare.

When she returned with his drink order, he noticed her hands shaking and quirked an eyebrow at her.  Taking a chance, he said, “I’m not going to eat you.”

His words must have startled her, for she dropped the cup onto the linoleum.

“That was just a quip, dearie.”

“Right,” breathed _Belle_ , and she crouched to pick up the cup and he could barely hear her remark about how she accidentally chipped it, her blue eyes inquiring for an acceptance of her apology.  She must know he owned everything in the damn town.

“It’s just a cup.”

Belle got him a refill and asked him what he would like on her next visit.  He ended up not remembering what he ordered, but he was still surprised when it turned out to fairly delicious and inexpensive.  The final bill totaled to $12.33, and it was with trembling hands did he leave a tip of $50 (a crisp, green bill that he was pretty sure was printed just the other week).  When he stood to walk out of the diner, he heard the girl’s voice call after him: “Sir!”

He turned, making sure to look down his nose at her (couldn’t seem weak in front of the crowd) and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Miss--”

“Belle.”

“Belle…?”

“Belle French.”

“Right, what is it Miss French?”

At this, she took pause and seemed very aware of the stares that they were collecting from the diner.  Granny had even decided to make an appearance from outside of the kitchen, and was watching on with planted hands on her hips.  A quick glare from Gold had them hunching down over their food and scurrying over their previous activities.

“I think you left this on the table,” said _Belle_ , outstretching her hand to return the fifty dollars.

Gold just stared at it.  “That I did, yes.”

“Um…”

“It’s your tip.”

“I--I don’t understand.  I broke a teacup, spilled some on your very expensive shoes--”

“I can assure you,” interrupted Gold, closing her outstretched hand around the dollar bill, “that your service was more than satisfactory.”

He left with more than a feeling of pride--he felt hope and shame rolling around in a bundle in his stomach.  He couldn’t place where the shame came from until he was twisting the key to his shop in the keyhole--his wedding band glinted against the light and reminded him of the choice he made to marry Cora.

And he was regretting it more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it! Sorry it took me so long to update, I got the flu and my schedule started getting really hectic.
> 
> Next chapter is inspired from a scene from "The Affair" with Ruth Wilson and Dominic West...thought it was appropriate since I've been drawing a lot of inspiration from the show.


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